10 Reasons Why I Married Hermione Granger
by justcrazyobsessed
Summary: Final in the Trilogy! Draco sheds some light on his own feelings towards our favorite Know-It-All. Find out what finally drove him to his breaking point and made him the marrying kind.


10 REASONS I MARRIED HERMIONE GRANGER

_**10 REASONS I MARRIED HERMIONE GRANGER**_

1. Potter and Weasley hated me.

2. She is the brightest witch in the world.

3. She didn't just want my money.

4. We were together for twelve years and never once did I think of leaving her.

5. Potter said no.

6. I couldn't get her off my mind.

7. Our infamy had us followed by the tabloids daily.

8. I was desperately in love with the woman.

9. Malfoy's do not share.

10. Her friends still hated me.

I knew I couldn't stand Granger the moment I met her. She had this know-it-all way about her and that made me want to hang myself. She just appeared so arrogant but then she had this sweetness still that came off as genuine. I had to knock her off that high horse of hers, but it seemed nothing I did ever slowed her down for long. She punched me, no fear at all on her face, only pure hatred. She wanted me dead. Of course the mudblood insult worked for a little while, knocking her down a few pegs, but she eventually grew immune to my sweet charms.

It was getting worse; we kept getting progressively more destructive and I knew I had to do something quick so I kissed her. I felt that attraction anyway, so I figured, it couldn't hurt to just do it. It's not like her muddy blood was a disease. Besides, she was very unconventionally beautiful. Maybe it was because she didn't care at all.

We started sneaking off to snog repeatedly and I didn't really know what had possessed my body. Why did I care to keep going back to her? I never did that with other girls at that time but then I realized I kind of liked it. I enjoyed the comfort of knowing the same girl was doting on me day after day.

Not that Granger dotes. But she does give the best damn sex I've ever had.

CHAPTER 1: Potter and Weasley Hated Me.

The Golden Trio: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. (Yes, I know it's a wonder that I even know their first names.) Her bodyguards were there from day one, always watching out for her, even when they didn't really like her. They still valued her as their Gryffindor friend.

But me, they saw me as completely the opposite. All I did was extend a hand of friendship to the bloke and what did I get? I got the title of Slytherin Bully and Class Prat. Those two dunderheads just couldn't stop with the silly meaningless insults.

Unfortunately, I actually cared at first that Potter didn't like me. He was practically wizarding royalty. I felt some kind of need to get him to like me. But his rejection was in the end right for our paths.

As I started resenting Potter more and more for choosing Weasley and Granger over me, I looked for ways to make him angry. It wasn't too difficult. He was quite easy to goad into a fight; all I had to do was mention his parents or insult Weasley's family… or call Granger a mudblood.

To add to the fact that I hated The-Boy-Who-Lived, I noticed that the female counterpart was better than me in school and it became a competition to beat her. I had to show them that I was the best. Breeding will win out.

When the competition exploded and we began "seeing each other" as she calls it, I felt like I had won something, even if it was not academia. Perhaps I was unable to beat Granger in anything, but Potter? I kicked his pathetic arse the minute my lips connected with hers for the first time.

It wasn't why I kissed her. I didn't do it to piss off Potter. He wasn't that high up on my scale. If I wasn't attracted to Granger, I couldn't have forced myself to do it. I had this strange pull to her. Every time we had fought, every time we had dueled, I had felt this pulsing desire to throw her up against the wall and shag her into oblivion.

I remember sitting in Potions one day burning a hole into the back of her head. I couldn't seem to look away. My eyes were as small as daggers and I just couldn't stop. I had this one image of fucking her right on top of the desk in front of Potter and Weasley.

After that class, I assaulted her in the hallway with a tripping hex. She fell flat on her face, spilling all her books and quills. The anger that spread across her features was priceless to me

"Malfoy, you complete buffoon! What is it this time? Did my face offend you again?" She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down. I just imagined seeing her like this without any clothes on.

"I just wanted to make sure you remembered your place, mudblood," I explained with my typical sneer upon my face. I spat at the ground to emphasize my point. "You're lower than dirt, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget?" she said with sass. "You remind me every day! Don't you think this is a little ridiculous now? We're in fourth year. Grow up!"

How was it that this lower being haunted my every thought? She was such a spectacular specimen and I was one hundred percent captivated by every step she took. But there was more to this woman than just beauty. She was the most intelligent witch I had ever met.

CHAPTER 2: She is the brightest witch in the world.

During our school years, she never got a single question wrong. She was like a walking encyclopedia of information on any and all subjects. If I were to sit here and list all of Hermione's qualifications, the list would very nearly never end. She was wicked brilliant saving Potter's arse all those times against Voldemort. It was during those last three years of schooling that I saw something other than the bushy haired know-it-all. I saw a girl, a girl who was hiding behind her knowledge (and hair) because she didn't know what else to do. She was using her strongest assets to hide what she thought were her weaker ones. She was quite clever. This just made me want her more for some reason. I loved that I could get the talkative teachers-pet to loose all her words. I loved making her resort to incoherent moans of lust and need. I was winning the competition still and it felt good.

When we got out of school, I immediately became a Quidditch Star. Sure, I could've worked in an office like a stupid git, filing paper work. Sure, I could've become some big shot corporate businessman, like Donald Trump or worse, my father. But why do that when I can make a fortune as an athlete and let all the money from my father's companies just trickle into my bank account? I didn't want to waste my time earning my money the old-fashioned way.

But Hermione, as persistent as she was, picked up a job at the Ministry right away. At first it was something simple to break her in like the Assistant Manager of the Department of Mysteries. But then she kept getting promoted. When that work became too simple for her, she went on to find something that would hold her interests. It never worked. She tried writing for a while. Her books were great, very educational. But even the 23rd Edition of Hogwarts: A History didn't challenge her enough.

I was in awe of this girl. I told her she didn't need to work. I know we weren't married or anything, but I was more than capable of taking care of all her bills. Besides, at that point we had been together for nearly five years already. There was definitely a commitment there. I would have had her head if I had known she was with other blokes. So to keep her close to me at all times, I paid for her apartment and insisted that whenever she was not working, she was at the Manor. She could do all her work there and that was the end of it. She didn't protest TOO much considering Malfoy Manor has one of the largest library selections in the entire world. I had hoped she'd be smitten enough with the Manor that she'd give up trying to have a career. I wanted her to stay home with me more often.

But she was too strong-minded for everything I wanted for us. She was too smart. She knew she had to be able to support herself so she kept working.

CHAPTER 3: She didn't just want my money.

She made a decent salary writing for some textbook publishing company. It was certainly more than enough for one person to live on, so being the smart witch that she was, she opened a savings vault in Gringotts. I got to see inside once and it was filled with galleons stacked upon galleons. She had her own wealth that she had earned all on her own like the good witch she was.

Not that I let her use any of it. That was her money; let her have fun with it. I had nothing better to do with my money than dote on her. Goodness knows the Malfoy Vault is filled with enough to allow the next twelve generations to live in the most luxurious lifestyle desired.

But whenever I tried to dote on her, she wouldn't let me. Well, that's not entirely true. She would let me buy her things here and there…but everything she wanted was so cheap and simple. Like a new novel that just came out. Or a plain black teapot so she could boil some water for us. I guess her parents hadn't had much money when they raised her and so this is what she was accustomed to.

And then she proved my theory right. She brought me to her childhood home once, when her parents were out of the country on vacation. Everything in that house was so classless and dull. Their entire living room furniture set must have cost about the same price as one of my ties. If even that.

But she loved that place. She adored it. She wouldn't even let me shag her on that damn awful couch. She said it was too disrespectful to her memories. But she did let me take her upstairs to her room, which was just slightly larger than a broom closet, and shag her on her twin bed. We barely managed to stay on, it was that pathetic. I had never been in a bed smaller than a king.

The amazing thing was, she really was content with her life monetarily and that was one of the things that drew me to her. With my last name and my job, women knew I was worth a fortune. They would do anything just to get into my Gringotts account, and if that meant trying to trick me into marrying them then so be it.

Hermione was a sure bet. She didn't want any of that. I just wasn't sure at the time that she wanted me either. I knew she loved snogging me and I knew she loved fucking me but God only knew if she really loved me.

But then, I didn't know if I loved her. I was a Malfoy: strong and proud. We don't love. To love is to be vulnerable.

CHAPTER 4: We were together for twelve years and never once did I think of leaving her.

When we got together at first, I assumed it would end before we even took our O.W.L.S., but of course, as normal with Ms. Hermione Granger, nothing was ever as it seemed. I don't care what anyone else says, that woman is the most unpredictable person I've ever had the displeasure of meeting.

So much to my shock and utter dismay, not once, as we progressed into whatever unhealthy relationship title you want to place on us, did I think it was time to get out. My mind, even subconsciously, never wandered that way. I was content: the most content a Malfoy has ever been. That didn't say much of course, but to me it spoke volumes.

I didn't tell her this. I didn't know HOW to tell her this or IF I should tell her this for the sole purpose of not being sure it was the truth. "Perhaps," I thought, "Perhaps, this contentment is only a result of pure sexual pleasure. It is true that she is the most pleasing I have ever slept with. And the idea that I deflowered her is absolutely delicious. Perhaps my mind is playing tricks on me merely because of this new found satisfaction."

After about six or seven years together, this thought continued to plague me. I was so comfortable and content with Hermione and so I panicked. Was this what the rest of my life would be like? Content? That is not that way of a Malfoy. I was supposed to have a heart of stone and be cold as ice with a touch of misery that rests in my eyes – NOT content!

I slept with Cho Chang. No, I didn't think of it as cheating because I knew that there was no one who could take me away from Hermione, no one that could even hold a candle to her. I just didn't want to be so content.

Chang was alright. She was really eager to suck me off but I wouldn't let her. I also wouldn't allow her to kiss me. Lips were so personal. The only mouth I wanted anywhere on my body was Hermione's.

I knew she'd be upset that I slept with that Ravenclaw. I knew she'd eventually try to leave if I continued to fuck other women. I think that's why I did it. I wanted to put a flaw into whatever we had. I needed to fuck it up a little because things were going all too well. I didn't want her to leave; I just needed a good reason to fight and to have tension between us. Besides, I knew she wouldn't dump me just because I cheated on her. She'd rather duel over it.

When we finally established that stage in our relationship where we knew the other wasn't going anywhere, I made her move in. I may have "known" she wasn't leaving, but I wasn't about to take a chance with it either. She loved Potter and Weasley just a little too much for my liking.

CHAPTER 5: Potter said no.

And of course, all good things must come to an end. Year twelve hit and we were still content. The sex was great, the conversation was great, and the fighting was actually going great. I was the most content when we got over our fights. The perfect feeling of knowing that we cared too much for the other to up and leave was pure bliss.

Thus enters Oliver Wood, the big fucking arsehole who just had to fuck shit up. It was him who took her from me, him who got in the way, him who stole my contentment! Damn jackarse. She didn't even like the bloke but she really had no choice. That damn Weasley wouldn't get off her back about us until she "dated" someone.

She figured he was a safe choice to shut the Weasel up. She started seeing Wood for tea or whatever but I knew what she was doing. She was fucking him, that damn witch.

I could have left her right there but when I finally confronted her, she told me it meant nothing.

We were eating dinner in the dining room. I dropped my knife and fork and looked up at her. "How am I supposed to know you're not going to fall for him?" I asked her.

"The same way I'm supposed to know you won't fall for Lavender Brown." She didn't even pick her head up to look me in the eye. She just kept cutting her steak with perfect etiquette. She had to have known how patronizing it was.

"But you don't know."

"Then I guess we're both in trouble, aren't we?"

"No, YOU'RE in trouble, not me. I'm not going to allow this little fling to go on any longer. I won't risk you leaving."

"It's just for appearance. Besides, I wouldn't know how to leave you."

There it was. She said it first; I had been waiting for that. All my nerves flew out the window. She was mine. For as long as we were content, she was mine. I just had to keep her happy.

I stopped the Brown Affair and set my efforts on pleasing her, in AND out of the bed. I offered to out our relationship but she said no. It wasn't right after twelve years to spring it on Potter like that. She couldn't… no, she WOULDN'T do that to him. My insides boiled. I tried to do something nice and got shot down? What is wrong with that witch?

Instead of trying to push that idea, I chose to please her in other ways. I showered her with gifts. She loved them (even though she hadn't even wanted them in the first place). I gave her pearls, diamonds, sapphires, rubies… you name it.

She had me convinced that her Wood Affair was all just a show until I picked up the Daily Prophet one fateful morning. **"Gryffindor Granger accepts proposal from Chudley Cannons Keeper - Oliver Wood!" **Stupid media!

I told her to end it, to make a public announcement to the press but she refused and told me I was being silly. It was all just "a big misunderstanding" as she told me. But nothing would make me feel better until there was a formal statement made to the Prophet…which she declined ever so politely.

We got into it pretty bad one day. I woke up at 3:00 AM and she was just getting home from a date with Oliver. She won't talk about it now and pretends not to remember but I still can recall what she was wearing and the way his sweat smelled upon her skin and the way her usually perfect ringlets knotted together as though she'd been thoroughly shagged and the way her breath reeked of alcohol.

"Is there some reason you snuck out to go see Ollie tonight instead of just waking me up? I'm here if you just need sex, I'm pretty sure you know that," I growled, tossing her on the bed in one swift motion.

"Draco, don't be stupid, getoff me!"

"I don't like this, Hermione! It ends NOW!" She pushed me off of her easily, since I wasn't about to hold her down against her will. I would never do that to a woman.

"I don't have to listen to you, Malfoy," she said as she rolled her eyes. "But don't worry, baby," she told me with obvious sarcasm, patting my shoulder in mock comfort. "It's just sex."

I left her there in the room for about a half hour while I stalked around the manor in a silent rage. When I could stand it no longer, I went back to find her crying on the bed. I wanted to put my arm around her and forgive her but I couldn't. I was a Malfoy, too proud for my own good.

"You think crying about it will make me feel bad for you? You think I'll give in just like that? It doesn't work like that, Granger. Fighting doesn't work like that. You are the biggest hypocrite in all of Europe. You hate when I'm unfaithful, but when you get a little taste of what it's like to fuck someone else, you can't get enough! Now listen here, woman, 'cause we've been together for twelve fucking years and it's about time we had it out. You're mine, I'm yours and it's never been any other way. It's time to treat it like it is: a real relationship. Out in the public, out to our friends, out of this Manor!"

I sat down on the bed with her and kissed her pink cheeks. "Come to the Annual Ministry Ball with me. We'll make it our announcement day. What do you say?" I pushed a stray tendril of hair out of her face to better see her eyes. They were red and puffy and remorseful.

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't hurt Harry like that. He's been through so much with his parents, with Voldemort. He won't ever accept his enemies. I know this would be too much for him, Draco."

I rose from the bed so quickly, I was nearly lightheaded. "FUCKING POTTER! ARE YOU SCREWING THAT TWAT TOO?"

"Don't be that cruel!" She got up on her knees and reached out to me but I pushed her away.

"Don't touch me," I told her. "Don't you dare touch me! You're his, aren't you? You must be!" I punched my arm around with fury coursing through my veins and wound up flinging the lamp across the room, scaring the daylights out of Hermione. "Is this how it's going to be for the rest of our lives?"

"Do you plan on living with me for the rest of your life?" she asked.

I couldn't answer. I had no idea where that had come from. Did I see us getting married? Truth be told, I'm not sure I wanted to get married to anyone at the time but as a Malfoy, it was my duty. We stayed quiet for a long period of time. Then at about 7:00 AM I took a shower and got dressed. I had to be at the Pitch by eight for practice so I left.

When I got back at noon, I found a note: Draco, I went to the Burrow to talk to Ron and Harry over tea. I'm not coming back to the Manor tonight. I'll be staying at my own flat. Come by if you want to talk.

What kind of a note was that? I wasn't about to wait 'til the nighttime to speak to her. I flooed my way into the Weasley home and fought it out there. When it came down to it, Potter said no.

I left and she did damage control. At nine she came by and asked me what I wanted for us. I told her to get the fuck out.

CHAPTER 6: I couldn't get her off my mind.

The two years we were apart was my time of discontent. I was, in true Malfoy form, cold and heartless. I listened to my family's advice and married the safe bet, Pansy Parkinson. She had her own money and prestige; she really just wanted to be the wife of Draco Malfoy. So I married her and without her permission cast a contraceptive charm on her, which I would eventually release when we were all said and done.

My marriage to her was the typical pureblood marriage. We spoke only during meals which were few and far between; we had sex once a week to keep the other at least a little satisfied; and we never spoke of anything other than socialite gossip, business, politics, and superiority. Pretty similar (with the exception of the latter) to the portrait Hermione paints of her sham of a marriage.

I don't need to tell you how much I despised Pansy just like I don't need to tell you how much I hated my life in that short period of time. It was all I could do to keep myself from running to the Ministry (where I was informed that Hermione had become Assistant Mistress of Magic) to beg for her to come back. I couldn't stop thinking about her, dreaming about her, or even reading about her. I was obsessed with her. I couldn't shag Pansy without picturing Hermione and I couldn't play a Quidditch game without looking in the stands, wishing she were there, even if it was to root for the other team.

When I ran into her getting a drink, I knew it was fate. Diagon Alley wasn't often populated by the upper class socialites in Wizarding London so running into someone for me is never a coincidence. It is meant to be.

She wouldn't sleep with me right away. It was a huge feat getting her into my bed once more. She kept protesting by telling me that she couldn't cheat on Oliver. I pointed out that she had no problem cheating on me.

But then she went off on me and said, "Only after you cheated on me! And let's be perfectly clear, Draco. You and I are BOTH married. Sleeping with other people when married is unlawful."

It was alright though. I knew it was only a matter of time before I plagued her mind the same way she plagued mine.

CHAPTER 7: Our infamy had us followed by the tabloids daily.

It only took me a few months to get her back and then within no time she became the Mistress of Magic. Everything was just so overwhelming. Finding time to spend with her was so difficult.

This problem was new to us. The last time we had been together, she wasn't the Mistress of Magic. She had a flexible job that allotted her plenty of free time. Last time we'd been together, she wasn't famous the way she was now. She had always been well known through out the Wizarding World as the right hand of Harry Potter but now she had her own fame. It used to be easy to place a disillusionment charm on her to make her blend in but now it wasn't the same. She had bodyguard's during business hours, watching everyone she spoke to and meetings on weekends with other important world leaders. Things weren't shaping out too well.

But with our status and prestige came more than minor interferences. It brought us press. It brought us Rita Skeeter. She followed Hermione around as if she had a personal vendetta against my girl.

She knew when I had "appointments" with the Mistress of Magic. She knew every single time I went into Hermione's office. I know this because she was always there trying to get a personal interview with me. What exactly was I seeing the Mistress of Magic about? Were my companies involved in illegal business that I needed Hermione's help with? The good thing is that she guessed the wrong scandal.

Then she started making up more lies for Hermione. Skeeter followed her to the Burrow and took a nasty picture of Hermione embracing Potter while giving him a kiss on the cheek. **"Trouble in Paradise for the Woods?"** Hermione was humiliated, swearing her and Potter were just friends but it didn't matter to Skeeter. She stood by her writing, that damned wench.

Hermione was calm about the whole fiasco. She said people were going to talk about her, truth or rumors, it didn't matter. She couldn't stop them so what was the use in trying? As frustrating and humiliating as it was, gossip and lies are human nature.

We were never caught in our affair, besides by Weaselby, but that was just because we learned from our mistakes. The moment I had seen Rita Skeeter lurking about in the shadows, tracking every step Hermione took, I knew we had to be extremely careful. Hermione couldn't use floo powder to come to the Manor anymore. It was too risky because most Dark Wizard families had their floo connections monitored and if a big name showed up, they often would investigate.

So Hermione had to use apparition. It wasn't all that bad, just a bit inconvenient. This whole publicity thing was a crock. We didn't want it and we didn't know what to do with it. It was pushing us to a place we didn't want to be. It was making everything so intense, where every moment counted because we didn't see each other often enough. I personally thought it was unnecessary. I told her to leave Wood so we could be together. I told her I loved her.

CHAPTER 8: I was desperately in love with the woman.

It all comes back to contentment. I had never placed that contentment for what it was. I just thought it was satisfaction, some sort of sick pathetic mutual fulfillment that never really meant much to me, but I was wrong. I was horribly wrong. There was that raw emotion that she evoked in me, emotions that I had only read about. Never had I expected myself to fall subject to its attacks.

Yes, love attacked me. It fucked me up. I was a Malfoy; this shit doesn't happen to us. To love is to be vulnerable. I was the weak link in the Malfoy chain, but it didn't quite matter to me anymore.

Let love attack me from the sky. Let love be the death of me. I had this carnal urge to possess her, the way she possessed me without even knowing it. I realized I loved her when I saw her at the Ministry the first time after we had gotten back together. She had always told me she deserved more than what I could give her but I never agreed until that day. I never understood why she thought she deserved more.

But that day it dawned on me. She deserved the world to revolve around her. She deserved the sky brought down from the heavens above just so she could better observe the stars and their beauty. She deserved a fairy tale ending and I was going to be the one to give it to her.

When I walked in to the Ministry, I told the front receptionist that I had a meeting with the Minister of Magic about important Malfoy Company legal dilemmas. She let me up no problem. When I reached Hermione's floor, I saw her standing at someone's cubicle, discussing some boring politics with this bloke. They were having their intellectual conversation, that was easily understandable and yet highly uninteresting to me, and I grew jealous. She was laughing with him and he was staring at her with those eyes. Those eyes seemed to know everything about her. I could read that fellow like an open book. He seemed to sense that she was in an unhappy marriage and that she wasn't faithful to her husband any longer. I could see in his eyes his intentions and my fists clenched.

"Come on, Granger, we've got a meeting that starts right now and I haven't got all day," I grumbled out as I grabbed her hand and pulled her into her office. I knew what everyone thought. They assumed it was our age old rivalry at it again but they had no idea.

"Draco, how dare you embarrass me in front of my staff like that!" she hollered at me. She was wearing a white button down cotton blouse with a black pencil skirt; her hair was in a loose but respectable bun and her reading glasses hung around her neck. She was the model of professionalism.

"Well I don't have the time to watch you flirt," I said coldly, stripping off my robe and shirt while speaking. "Honestly, you should be more modest around other blokes. Stop fueling Skeeter's flame."

She unbuttoned her own blouse as well and slipped off her black pumps. "I was speaking with a coworker, Draco. I don't know how she could distort that story too much."

"It's your reputation, Granger. Not mine. I don't give a flying fuck what she writes about you in the paper. Not like it affects me." Off came the belt and trousers, along with my dress shoes.

Her skirt and nylons slid off in one fluid motion and she was left in her lacy white bra and knickers. "If it doesn't affect you, why get so mad?"

"I told you. I'm not mad. I just didn't have time to waste."

"What's the rush? You're just going to sit around the house like a lazy arse anyway."

"Well for your information, Pansy and I have a dinner date with Blaise and his girl." I took off my socks and waited for her to make the next move.

Instead of her losing the bra, she determined that it was necessary to run over and slap me. "Fuck you, Draco Malfoy. Fuck - you. Get out of my office!"

She could've thrown me out and she would've been one hundred percent in the right but I couldn't let her do that. "Now, now, Granger. Don't be getting all upset. You don't see me complaining that your anniversary is coming up in about a month, do you?"

She frowned. "It's completely different for us, Draco. Oliver and I shag once a year. You and Pansy shag like every week!"

"And this all could've been solved all those years ago but you chose Potter and that pretty boy Wood. I fail to see how any of this is my fault. I happened to choose to marry a woman who expected sex. You chose a frigid bore. Who created this problem? You."

"Not this again, love, I can't handle it. I love you but the past is the past. I won't make that mistake again and you're going to have to trust me on that."

"So leave Wood."

"No."

"Leave him, Hermione. I'm not kidding."

"Why? Because of you? Because you want me all to yourself? Tell me this, Draco Malfoy. Do you love me?"

I didn't answer. I knew the right answer. I knew I loved her. But I couldn't tell her. She had never really said it to me so why should I be first?

I reached over to her and pulled her body into mine. I let every curve of her connect with me as I leaned in and captured her lips between mine. "You're mine. Can't that be enough?"

As always nothing was ever enough. She wanted more. She deserved more. And I knew it. That was the shameful part.

When she finally got me to say it, it was because I knew I would lose her if I didn't. She had me backed into a corner and it was the necessary next step. "I love you." Those three words are fateful. They hold a lot of power in them and they were three words I never thought I'd be able to truthfully put together in a sentence. Affection was pointless, but Hermione apparently needed it. All girls need to hear it so I didn't really think she was asking for too much.

I just never expected myself to believe the words when they came out. I never expected it to be true.

After that day I couldn't stop saying it. Every time after we'd make love, as we came down from our heavenly orgasms, I would whisper out I-love-you's. I was becoming a big old sap and I didn't even care. "You're my world, Hermione Granger." That's what I told her.

It seemed to go over pretty well because she immediately decided I had earned a fantastic blowjob. I was more than thrilled but important issues still lingered on my mind. Were we going to end up together or had fate dealt us a cruel hand? Were we destined to be star-crossed lovers, never able to be open about our love?

Now I wasn't one for sappy talk, and I still get very tongue tied when I try to speak about it but at that point, it was what I thought about all day every day.

I wanted her so badly that when I played against the Chudley Cannons, I took all my frustration out on their beloved Captain, Oliver Wood. I stared him down when we kicked off the pitch and I knew I was going for him. I may have just been the seeker but my broom _accidentally_ grazes the bludgers every now and again as they fly past.

I let the fool have it, put him right in his place. Below me. Did Hermione really think this man could ever compare to me? Did he really think he was good enough for her? I could've thrown him into the Black Forest and let the demons kill him out there.

But it was worse, because I knew Hermione had let him touch her the way only I have touched her before. I knew that he had kissed her most intimate parts and I knew that on some level, he could satisfy her. He was the only other man she was ever even slightly interested in (other than her third year crush on Weasel but let's be honest, that doesn't quite count).

How could she let him fuck her? HOW! I hated sex with Pansy but it was something I had to do. Hermione didn't HAVE to fuck Wood.

I was aware, of course, that I was being illogical. I knew that I should have remembered it was a no-way out situation but my jealousy got the better of me. I was like a little boy who was told he had to share his favorite toy.

CHAPTER 9: Malfoy's do not share.

When I ran my hands up Hermione's smooth legs or down her tanned stomach or over her swelling breasts, I couldn't help the cringe from sneaking up my spine because I knew he had permission to touch her like this whenever he wanted (even if he didn't act on it). I knew that the law said I was wrong to sleep with another man's wife especially since I had my own.

But I didn't see it like that. Hermione had always been mine. She belonged to me and this Wood situation might has well have been called temporary. I think somewhere deep down we both always knew we'd end up together. We had this perfect chemistry that was incomparable to any other feeling known to this universe.

The minute I said I love you, our whole world had changed for me. She wasn't my mistress. She was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. She was the woman I wanted to wake up to every morning. She was the woman I wanted to have kids with.

Kids.

Oh, brother. Kids. What if she had gotten pregnant with Wood's child? What if? I wasn't going to share my life with that dolt for forever! When Hermione and Wood finally split, I wanted to make sure she had no ties to him any longer.

I pestered her about leaving for so long. The sex was great those days because we were always so angry. "Leave him. You could have everything you ever wanted if you just pick up and leave."

"What about Pansy, Draco?" she would ask me.

I'd sigh. Truth be told, I didn't know what to do about that. My father would have my head if I left my pureblood trophy wife for a Mudblood. Not that he could cut me off, though. My mother would never allow it.

But then again, Hermione wasn't just ANY mudblood. She was the Minister of Magic and she was MINE. How could I let perfection like that get away?

I thought about it over and over again. I had to think of something, some way to make Hermione see that I was the only man she should ever be with. I thought about impregnating her but I quickly realized Hermione took a daily contraceptive potion. She never missed it. But at least that eased my worries that she'd be running around with little Wood babies on the loose.

My next big plan was to dress up as a Death Eater, though I have never been involved in any of those activities in my entire life, and threaten Wood's life if he didn't leave Hermione right away. I had some trouble finding my father's robe and mask but after I found it, the thought occurred to me that maybe that was a good way to get myself arrested since the war was completely over and anyone with ties to Voldemort was prosecuted and sent to Azkaban for life.

I had one more plan, the one that took the choice out of Hermione's hands. I showed up at their house one day to talk to her. She was in the library talking to Ollie about God knows what. I told her it was time to leave him, right in front of the bloke. I know I was being an arse but Malfoy's do not share and I was done sharing my most prized possession.

She left him and we spent the weekend in my Italian estate. While she was sleeping, I saw Pansy and broke it off. Then, I saw Potter and Weasley. I went without a wand. Yes, I was well aware how stupid the idea sounded but it was necessary in order for Hermione and me to take the next step in our relationship.

The two of them wanted to hex me right off the bat, no chance to even speak my mind. But somehow, my calm and cool attitude managed to change their minds. I told them that I hated them, probably always would, but Hermione loved them. She was desperate for their approval and THAT'S why she stayed with Wood for all those years. I admitted that she would never be completely mine until they accepted what we had. I also admitted that I was sick of sharing her.

Hermione was mine. Malfoy's do not share.

They seemed to get the point after I let them Crucio me once to "prove my love". I'm sure Hermione wouldn't tell you that. She doesn't even know. I promised it'd be our secret so long as they never let her leave me for them.

CHAPTER 10: Her friends still hated me.

We had it made at first. It was so simple for us. Even my father had accepted the engagement between the MINSTER OF MAGIC mudblood and myself. He said, "It's a new era, boy. We Malfoy's must adjust to the times. I'm proud that you were smart enough to keep this family in good standing with the Ministry. I knew I did something right."

I didn't even care what he thought anymore. Nothing he said could put a dent in my contentment. Two years later, I set the wedding for October 13th, my favorite month of the year. The air was crisp and the colors were warming.

We held the wedding on the shores of Italy, right behind my estate there. I'll never forget how breathtaking Hermione was that day. She wore her gorgeous brown hair up with loose waves falling down to frame her face. Her make-up was all neutral colors: soft browns and light pinks. Her skin was sun-kissed from having been in Italy for the entire summer prior to the wedding. Her dress was a white strapless gown; the upper half had a lace covering that went off the shoulders and past her elbows, fitting her form perfectly. She wore a lace veil as well and when she walked down the aisle, doves helped carry the train.

Potter and Weasley stood by my side as my "Best Men" (not by my choice) merely because of Hermione's persistence. Personally, two idiots who used the Cruciatus on me would never have been my first picks but Hermione was rather keen on the pair of them.

When we said our I Do's, I kept my vows as not-mushy as possible. "Granger, I take you to be my wife not only because I love you, but because I'm a jealous man who refuses to share you ever again. I promise to love and to cherish you not only because you'll be my wife, but because you'll still be the insufferable-know-it-all that I hated at Hogwarts. I promise to be by your side in sickness and in health not because you're the best shag I've ever had but because you bring out the best in me. You inspire compassion and patience, two things a Malfoy knows nothing about. I can vow all of this to you not because I wrote it all out and practiced it a million times in the mirror… but because it's all true. I love you and I'm not going anywhere, pet."

She cried. She cried and cried and cried some more. It took her a few minutes to reply. "Yours was nicer than mine's going to be," she sobbed with a small laugh behind it. "I take you as my husband because you're the biggest git in all of London, wizard and muggle alike. I take you as my husband because I know that if you truly didn't love me, there's no way you'd still be with me. I love you, Draco Malfoy, because after 18 years of being together…on and off albeit… there's still no one else I'd rather be with. You're my world. You're all I think about and all I want to know. I'm marrying you, Draco, because even my best friends couldn't convince me this was a bad idea… try as they might have in the beginning. Yesterday when I asked them what they thought, do you want to know what they said?"

I raised an eyebrow and looked back at the two who had smug smirks on their faces. "It better have been good or else some curses are going to fly," I mumbled so only those at the alter could hear.

She just laughed. "They said they couldn't think of anyone more perfect for me, Draco. They approved! Can you believe it? We're going to be together forever and NO ONE is going to get in the way anymore. I love you, Draco Malfoy. I love you."

I looked back at Potter and gave him a short nod. Good puppet.

After the wedding, we moved back to London, where Hermione won the election once more for Minister of Magic. She had relinquished the title for a year when we were planning the wedding but once we got back to England, we had to establish our life as a married couple, which wasn't much different to what it had been before except now Hermione had to accompany me to all of my functions, which happened to occur quite often.

As Minister of Magic, she was, of course, obligated to at least make an appearance…but as the wife of Draco Malfoy, she was obligated to stay and mingle and show a good face to the people. It was very important to me to keep the Malfoy name respectable now that we had made it that way. I wanted people to not only respect us but to envy us; we are the perfect ideal of a wizard and a witch; we have class and power. Hermione didn't like this very much.

She told me she hadn't realized I was such an elitist. I just had to laugh. "You always knew I was an elitist. It's part of why you love me."

After about a year or two of marriage, I must admit I was still content. I couldn't believe that the love was still there. From what I had been taught through my parents and every other pureblood example I'd seen, marriage was supposed to kill any love that may have once existed.

But not with Hermione. Our relationship was not the traditional pureblood relationship I'd been accustomed to. It was wild and free, with communication and trust.

And although I thought I couldn't be happier, she still found a way to bring my contentment to the next level. I came home from work one day and to my utter surprise, she was already home. I found her pacing around the kitchen over a batch of chocolate chip cookies that had clearly just come out of the oven.

"Hermione, love… what's going on? Shouldn't you be at work?" I asked as I walked up to her to place a loving kiss on her forehead.

She jumped at the contact and took a step backwards. "Draco!" she shrieked. "I'm sorry; I forgot what time you get home! You scared me is all."

I put my briefcase and work coat on the kitchen table before grabbing her hands and sitting her down. "It's fine love, no worries. Just talk to me. What's wrong?" I questioned again.

She looked up at me with those big brown eyes. Those gorgeous, entrancing eyes that I could get lost in. They weren't filled with fear, which had been initially what I was expecting. No, they were filled with something different. It looked like uncertainty.

"I have something to tell you," she finally let out. "It's going to change everything."

There were a number of things she could be talking about. As Minister of Magic, she was privy to a lot of information that could change the entire wizarding community. I had to be prepared for the worst.

"Whatever it is, we're in it together. No matter what comes our way, I'm with you 'til the end."

She took in a deep breath before spilling, "Well, actually, IT'S not going to change everything. THEY'RE going to change everything." I quirked a brow even though I'm pretty sure we can all figure out where this is going. "Sweetheart, I stopped taking my birth control when we got married. I know I should have told you but I just thought, hey, leave it up to fate. We're two well off, responsible adults who can handle the consequences. I went to the healer's office today for my yearly physical. There's no easy way to say this so I'm just going to out with it already! Draco, I'm pregnant with triplets."

TRIPLETS!

Oh God, that woman must be just as fertile as Molly Weasley!

"Now, Draco, it was always my plan to have a big family. I'm an only child, like yourself, and I always wished I had siblings to play with. I for one am glad we're having three at once. They can never be lonely."

Yeah and we're never going to sleep again! Alright, don't get me wrong. Yeah, kids, woo-hoo! Believe me, I AM happy. But THREE? I was just a little shocked at first.

"Talk to me, Draco. Communicate. What happened to 'We're in this together' and all that bullcrap you were spouting?"

I took one more look at her face, which was growing angrier by the second. It was turning all red and that vein in her forehead began to pop out. I just couldn't stop myself from laughing. It was one of those real good laughs, you know… the ones that start way down deep in your stomach and travel their way up to your throat and don't stop until you can't breathe anymore.

When I finally caught my breath, she looked ready to pounce on me and tear my vocal chords out. I knew she was expecting me to bitch and moan so I had to do something that would hit her completely out of left field. "Oh goodness, Hermione, triplets? Okay, well I know we have this big mansion with ten bedrooms and another twenty guestrooms and all that yadayada…. But what I think we should do for them is tear down the walls for three of the largest bedrooms. Like the ones in the east wing right next to our bedroom? So we tear down those walls and combine the rooms so that way they have enough space to call their own but they're all together for sibling bonding and safety and whatever other cutesy reasons you can come up with later. What do you think?"

Those eyes were completely blank when I looked in them after that little speech. I took her breath away. I'm pretty proud of myself over that, thank you very much!

"Draco, are you serious? You're fine with this? I know you tied Pansy's tubes so I know you're not really into kids to begin with…"

"Eh, eh, eh… Wait one minute there, Know-it-All. I didn't want kids back then, yes, because I was married to PANSY! THE DEVIL INCARNATE! Are you really comparing the situations?"

"Oh Draco, this is brilliant! I'm so happy I could kiss you!"

"Well why not? I am your husband and you can't get pregnant again right now… right?"

She laughed and swatted at my arm. "I need to go to the Burrow. I have to tell Harry and Ron right away! There's plenty of time for THAT once we get back."

"We? Why do I have to go? You go, make our announcements, and then come back to me. I'll have a romantic evening all set up." I raised one eyebrow and gave her what she had once called my 'irresistible-smirk'.

It seemed nothing would change her mind, however. She took my hand and put her own on a newspaper that was lying next to us. Turns out it was a portkey that I never new about. Hmmm, interesting.

The Burrow was filled with Weasley's, old and young. Potter and the she-Weasel had settled down and popped out two youngins already. And Weasel had married himself a muggle girl, Breanna, and they had their own little screaming brat. Then the one of the twins that survived was there with his wife, as well as the three older brothers and their girls. All of which had children to add.

Turns out it was a big day for the Weasley family too. They were celebrating the anniversary of Molly and Arthur, which was why Hermione had made me come. She always told me I was expected at all major functions.

When dessert was served and champagne tossed out, all eyes were on Hermione (beings she had to pass up the champagne… obviously). "You're not drinking, dear? Oh please have a drink, toast with us!" Molly had pleaded.

Hermione laughed and grabbed my hand. "Now or never," she whispered before getting the attention of every last living Weasley (and the dead ones in their portraits). "Draco and I are pregnant!" she declared with a shit-eating grin on her face.

The uproar of cheers and jokes was instantaneous. I was desperate for a good pair of earplugs! I had to make nice with all of the men and shake all their hands. The girls kissed my cheek or hugged me so tight I was breathless. But then Potter and Weasley came up to us.

I looked at them and they looked at me.

Potter scrunched up his face and looked at Hermione. "So you're definitely preggers? That's about as official as you two can get, you know?"

She smiled and shook her head. "It's triplets, Harry. I know what I'm doing. I'm happy and I'm about to be a mother of three. Be happy for me!"

Weasel ruffled his nose too before saying, "Well I can only pray they have brown, curly, bushy hair like their mother. That way, when I babysit, I won't have a constant blond reminder of exactly who their father is."

"Blonds or brunettes, I'll love 'em the same," Potter declared. "Just promise me one thing."

My beautiful wife asked, "What's that?"

"Don't name any of the boys Draco Jr. Please, I beg you!"

We all shared a laugh, mainly because I never had any intention of naming a child after me! Gods, the narcissism he projects onto me is audacious.

Then I looked at the pregnant love of my life and took her in my arms. "Your friends may always hate me," I told her with my own soft smile.

She pushed up on her tiptoes and lined her lips up with mine. Her kiss was soft and sweet, but reassuring nonetheless. "I'm well aware. But isn't t that why you married me?"

THE END

A/N….. YES I MADE A FULL TRILOGY LOL!! ENJOY FIRST BUT MAKE SURE TO REVIEW! I'M REALLY HAPPY WITH THIS AND I THINK YOU SHOULD BE TOO! IT WAS FUN TO WRITE. I'VE READ IT LIKE TWENTY BILLION TIMES HAHA! ALRIGHT WELL NOW'S THAT TIME WHERE YOU CLICK ON THE LITTLE REVIEW BUTTON AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SCREEN! DO IT! DO IT!! LOL!


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